


love and death

by orphan_account



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Emotional Constipation, Episode: s01e05 Bottled Appetites, First Kiss, Friendship/Love, Hurt Jaskier, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21889591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Jaskier gets seriously injured by the djinn, Geralt does everything in his power to save him. Of course, that doesn't mean that the stupid bard is important to Geralt. Not at all.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 1083





	love and death

Geralt watched Jaskier fall to the ground with blood spilling from his mouth. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath, feeling a wave of anger flowing through his body. It was the first emotion Geralt felt each time Jaskier did something stupid. Maybe it was just simpler - anger and violence, this is what the witchers were associated with. Worry? Friendship? Love? Only a fool would suspect Geralt of even knowing what it's like to worry about someone close to him. And yet, the anger quickly vanished and worry took its place.

  
"Jaskier?" Geralt whispered, kneeling by the bard. "Hold on Jaskier, I'll get you to the doctor."

  
Geralt felt calmer as they rushed through the forest on Roach's back. They will reach the city, find the right medic and soon everything will return to normal. Saving Jaskier was somewhat his duty and something that had to be done. So, it had nothing to do with Geralt's feelings. Jaskier wasn't his friend, wasn't his best friend, and he definitely wasn't more than a friend.

  
"Geralt ..." Jaskier croaked, his voice lost in his throat "I can't ..."  
  
A moment later, the bard lost consciousness again, and his limp body fell on Geralt's back, which caused another internal monologue in the witcher's head. Something more? Where does this idea come from? The only thing that matters in life is money, killing monsters, and occasionally eager ladies in Novigrad brothels. Oh yes, Geralt would definitely prefer to spend an evening with a beautiful, naked redhead than with an overly talkative poet.  
  
After a long time, they finally reached a city, or rather a town. It looked like one of a hundred other towns, grey and dirty, with cobbled streets and stone houses. Right next to it, the witcher saw a makeshift camp - a perfect place to find a medic. Geralt jumped off the horse and helped Jaskier go down without too much effort on gentleness. He took the bard to the tent, which was shown to him by one of the people on the road - hopefully, it was the right one.   
  
"Can you help him?" the medic's uncertain gaze did not convince Geralt, that Jaskier would find help in this place.  
  
"That's not good..." Chireadan, or whatever his name was, looked around the tent nervously "I'm afraid I cannot help you. His injuries are magic based. Without magical help, he may die."  
  
"Fuck, Geralt!" Jaskier managed to say before he coughed out blood again.   
  
And there it was again, the anger. Geralt hoped that he would manage without witches and magicians, sneaky and unreliable creatures. However, Jaskier's life was more important than the witcher's personal prejudices.  
  
The elf directed them to the mayor's house, where a magician was reportedly imprisoned. Geralt frowned as he processed the information in his head. Unless the mayor himself had supernatural abilities, he would not be able to imprison a talented magician in the basement of his own home - there was certainly more to it.  
The mayor's house, as expected, was not a fortress protected with magic - just an ordinary stone building. Seeing that the bard would not be able to stand up on his own, Geralt threw him on his back and entered the house. From the front door, he could feel the magic, the chaos floating in the air. Whoever the mysterious magician was, he belonged to the more powerful ones - he wasn't a bazaar magician pulling rats out of his sleeve.  
  
"Oh." Geralt put Jaskier on the table and looked around the room, what he immediately regretted. He was certainly not old-fashioned, but the view of a naked mayor was not the most pleasant. It seemed that the man would not be able to help them anyway, so the witcher just sighed and left the room - he would have to look for the magician himself.  
The next room was no less a surprise than the naked mayor. Dozens of nude people wearing masks and making love - a simple spell that didn't work for witchers. Jaskier himself began to succumb to the charm, so after a short reflection, Geralt threw the bard on the ground and approached the sorceress himself - she was more beautiful than he expected. Artists in Aretuza had really outdone themselves that time.  
  
"I brought your apple juice."  
  
A corner of the witch's mouth lifted. She looked at the witcher with penetrating eyes that could make everyone feel uncomfortable. For a moment Geralt was struggling with the thought of whether it was worth asking this woman to heal Jaskier. The only things that the poet brought him were trouble he didn't ask for and silly songs. And now he needed to be saved. Geralt gritted his teeth and looked the sorceress in the eye. No matter how annoying the bard was, Geralt wouldn't forgive himself if it was Jaskier who died because of him. And if there was something that would be able to frighten the witcher, it was these feelings that he should not have.  
  
-  
  
Geralt obediently turned around and let Yennefer sit next to him in the warm water. The sorceress had an unearthly charm, he had to admit. Her intentions, however, did not seem honest at all. He didn't like the whole situation. Sitting in a bathtub, talking about childhood and his problems with a complete stranger. He couldn't remember the last time he confided in anyone to so many things. His childhood was something almost forgotten, vague and indistinct. He didn't want to remember it though.  
  
"Why did you fall so silent?" Yennefer chuckled softly, drawing patterns with her slender hands on the witcher's back "Don't you wanna talk about the past?"  
  
Geralt's only answer was a faint murmur - he had to check if Jaskier was alright. If, according to Yennefer, the conversation in the bathtub was the only payment for help, the payment might as well be over.  
  
-  
  
To Geralt's surprise, the sorceress kept her promise. Jaskier lay calmly in a large four-poster bed, a faint smile wandering on his lips. It was easy to guess what the bard was dreaming about. Geralt sometimes doubted that Jaskier's imagination was able to create anything other than naked women. He had to admit, he was relieved that his companion was safe and sound.  
  
"Do you doubt my abilities?" Yennefer asked  
  
"No, only your intentions." Geralt almost smiled, but another realization dawned on him, "I said some things to him. I don't want it to be the last thing he remembers."  
  
"He won't remember much when he's dead."  
  
The sorceress immediately said that she was joking, but Geralt was almost ready to draw his sword, which did not escape Yennefer's attention. She approached him with an amused smile on her face, gently stroking the witcher's back.  
  
"Tell me, witcher," she whispered in his ear, "What does this skinny little bard mean to you?"  
  
-  
  
Geralt opened his eyes, hearing an undefined male voice saying his name. He struggled to his feet, seeing in front of him an elf he recognized as the camp healer. In fact, before bringing Jaskier to Yennefer, he could spare a moment of his precious time to listen to what the elf had to say about the sorceress imprisoned in the city - perhaps he would be better at explaining than healing magical injuries.  
  
"Where are we?" Geralt grumbled, rising from the stone floor. The cell he was in definitely did not look like Yennefer's tasteful chamber.  
  
"Where do you think we are? The royal baths?" Chireadan rolled his eyes "Tell me, was the rampage really worth it?"  
  
Rampage? The witcher rubbed his eyes, trying to remember how and why he managed to get himself locked up. He remembered talking to Yennefer in the bathtub, then talking about his feel... a poor substitute of feelings, and a kiss. It wasn't the worst kiss he's ever had. After that, there was only darkness. Geralt knew that sooner or later the sorceress would deceive him and use him for her own purposes. And yet, he was almost starting to trust her in what she was doing.  
  
"Tell me about the rampage." Geralt conceded, turning to the healer. First, he'll find out what really happened, and then he'll figure a way to get out of this pathetic cell. After all, it's not the first time someone wants his head, and certainly not the last.  
  
-  
  
Just after the head of the executioner leading them to death exploded, Geralt knew what he had to do. He broke free and directed his steps towards the mayor's house, reluctantly allowing the elf to follow him. He felt sorry for the man that his love interest was a sorceress. Novigrad whores can be more faithful than witches - that was the witcher's age-old opinion about going into relationships with women like Yennefer

They arrived just in time to see Jaskier running out of the house. Geralt looked anxiously at the building - he was sure that Yennefer had not given up her hunt for the djinn, convinced that the bard had already expressed all his wishes and weakened the creature. Whether he wanted it or not, he had to help her.

"Geralt, you are finally here!" Jaskier approached the witcher quickly, trying to pull him towards the road leading to the exit from the city "Get your ass over here, and let's get out of this shithole."

Jaskier didn't even look at him or thank him for saving his life. In fact, why would he? It was Yennefer who cast a healing spell, all Geralt did was drag him down by his feet, right after he had offended his talent. In fact, Jaskier's singing voice was beautiful - it was a pie full of sweet, delicious feeling.

"I can't," Geralt grunted, cursing his urge to help that disgusting witch. "I have to help her, or she will die."  
  
"You know her?" Jaskier laughed, throwing his hands up in the air "Of course you know her."

This made Geralt wonder what his priorities were. Yennefer needed help, but she was a powerful magician. And Jaskier... Geralt owed him an apology.

"Wait," Geralt started, but he didn't know what to say. Apologizing was not one of his habits "I'm sorry"

"What?"

"Shut your mouth, I said I'm sorry." Geralt turned around, more ready to face Yennefer than another emotional conversation "Is your singing so bad it even made you fuckin' deaf?"

Jaskier's only reaction was a wide smile. He walked over to the witcher and looked at his face in silence.

"I see," the bard smiled again "Who would have thought, the White Wolf dared to apologize to his friend."

"You're not my ..." Geralt realized he was just making things worse "Forget it. I need to help Yennefer."

"This can be dangerous, you know?" Jaskier laughed nervously "I'm telling you, we should leave the sexy witch to her own business."

"No. I'm going to cast out the djinn before it kills her."

Jaskier sighed theatrically, placing his lean hands on the witcher's shoulders. Geralt at that moment was too confused by the poet's actions to protest. In addition, he just realised that Jaskier actually had very beautiful eyes. Sea green, glistening in the afternoon sun. It was strange that all these times he was forced to travel with the bard, he did not pay attention to it. 

"Are you thinking about that malicious woman again?"

"Well, I'm ..."

Before Geralt could finish the thought, Jaskier leaned in and instantly swept all the thoughts off the witcher's head with his soft lips. Hearing Jaskier's lofty brags about how he is able to seduce every woman on the continent, Geralt did not understand what all these girls saw in this annoying singer. He rarely admitted his mistakes, but this time he had to- all these women were right about the bard.

Yennefer could wait a little bit longer.  
  



End file.
